The Boots
by WrittenByMeow
Summary: A boring summer afternoon promises a fun twist. There's only one problem: who's going to wear the boots? Pre-Season 1


The campaign had ended sooner than Mike had planned. The Party was lounging in the Wheeler's basement, trying to find something to entertain them.

"I am not watching another rerun of 'Leave it to Beaver'," Lucas objected.

Dustin and Mike groaned.

Will glared. "What's wrong with the Beaver?" He demanded.

"It sucks," he replied emphatically.

Huffing, Will tossed the remote aside. Honestly, he didn't even like the show that much. He was simply sick of Lucas vetoing his ideas.

"Since it's my TV, I'll pick," Mike declared. He weathered the immediate protests from his friends and then pitched his voice to rise above the others. "I pick whatever Will wants to watch. His spell defeated the trolls."

As another wave of arguing fell over the group, something caught Dustin's attention. He grabbed the remote and shut off the TV. "Guys!" He lisped. "Guys, shut up! Listen."

The four boys were completely silent for three beats.

Mike's face screwed up. "Wh-?"

They all perked up once they, too, heard the faint patter. They rushed over to the window. It was near the top of the ceiling so they had to climb a shelf in order to reach it. Dustin was balancing precariously on a rickety wooden chair. They strained to see out.

It had gotten dark. It was darker than three o'clock on a summer afternoon should be. The dirt in the flower bed by the window had turned to mud.

"I'm going to go jump in a puddle," Dustin declared. The chair toppled as he leapt off, sprinting for the stairs. His friends were soon thundering after him.

They had gotten close. They had made it all the way up the stairs, through the kitchen, and halfway across the living room. They were almost home free. There they were intercepted. So, so close.

"Where do you think you four are going?" Mrs. Wheeler inquired. She stood between them and the front door with her hands on her hips. She was rather intimidating to a group of nine year old boys.

"Outside," Mike explained impatiently.

The boys nodded. Eagerly Dustin informed her, "I'm going to jump in a puddle."

"Not in those shoes," she declared, pointing at their feet.

There was a chorus of groans.

She shook her head. The large bump of her hairdo didn't budge. It was amazing what hairspray could do. "No, I don't want to hear it. Mike, go show them where we keep the old ones. Go! Dustin, your mother will thank me."

Despite their bellyaching, Mrs. Wheeler would not budge (much like her hair). They shuffled back downstairs. Since Mike couldn't remember exactly where he had shoved the box his mother had been talking about, the group split up to search. After many false alarms Dustin finally found it.

"Yes!" Mike cheered. "So that's where I put it."

They pulled the box from the corner it had been tossed into and dragged it over onto the rug. They crowded around it. Mike began distributing the contents. He could still wear the pair he had last year, even if they were a bit snug, so that someone else could wear his new ones. Lucas was quick to claim those. Will, being the smallest, was able to wear Mike's from the previous year. That left…

"What am I supposed to wear?" Dustin asked.

Mike frowned and dug a little deeper into the box. "You might be able to wear Nancy's old ones," he suggested.

Dustin didn't think that was such a bad deal. As soon as he saw what Mike pulled out, however, he was immediately shaking his head. "Nope. I'd rather get pneumonia."

"Come on, man," Will cajoled.

"No. It's not happening."

"Nobody's going to say anything," Mike promised. "Right, guys?"

They all nodded earnestly.

He crossed his arms. "It doesn't matter because I. Am. Not. Wearing them."

"I'll wear them."

They all looked at Lucas. He held Mike's new boots out to Dustin. "Here. Give me the other ones."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

He nodded once, resolute. "Yes."

Shrugging, Mike finally handed them over. "Fine. Take them. Let's go, guys."

They switched their shoes. Mike's were a bit tighter than he remembered. Being nine, he wasn't about to let that stop him.

This time they were able to make it past Mrs. Wheeler. As one, they surged into the street. Water soaked their pants. They howled in delight. In the gloom, Lucas's pink boots glowed like a beacon.

Later, as they were gathering their bikes to go home, Dustin had to ask. "Hey, Lucas."

"Yeah?" The boy replied, clipping his helmet on.

"Why did you wear Nancy's boots? Why didn't you just wear the other ones?"

He mounted his bike with a scoff. "Are you still on that?"

Dustin whined. "I gotta know!"

Lucas put his foot on the pedal and looked right at Dustin. "One of us had to be man enough to wear the pink ones," he said, deadpan.

Before Dustin could formulate a response, Lucas pushed off. Dustin shouted after him, scrambling to mount his own bike. Lucas's victorious laughter echoed down the street.


End file.
